On opening the door, he saw the articles of which he was in search–a long cloak and a regimental cap. These he at once put on. After a further search, he found a pair of military pantaloons and a patrol jacket. Throwing off the cloak, he rapidly changed his clothes. He wanted now only a regimental sword to complete the costume, but he trusted to the long cloak to hide the absence of this.
Throwing the things that he had taken off under the bed, he went out, closed the door behind him, locked it, and took the key. He had with him the short sword carried by the warder, and he relied upon this to silence the sentry, at the passage leading to the outer court, should he attempt to stop him.
This, however, was most unlikely. The night was dark, and there was no light burning; and at this hour, with fresh troops arriving and a general movement in the fortress, there could be no question of a countersign being demanded by a sentry in the interior of the place. The man, indeed, only drew himself up and saluted, as he dimly made out an officer coming from the major's quarters.
The courtyard beyond was half full of soldiers. The newcomers had just fallen out. Some were being greeted by members of the garrison who had known them before, officers were chatting together; and Fergus made his way, unnoticed in the darkness, to the gate. As he had hoped, the baggage waggons were making their way in.
A sentry was placed on each side of the gate.
"Now then," he said sharply, "hurry on with these waggons. The commandant wants the gate shut, as soon as possible;" and passing the sentry, he went on as if to hurry up the rear of the train.
Taking him for one of the officers of the newly-arrived party, the sentry stepped back at once, and he passed out.
There were six waggons still outside and, unnoticed, he passed these and went down the road. He had brought with him under his cloak the sergeant's lantern and, as soon as he was half a mile from the fortress, he took this out in order to be able to proceed the more rapidly. He had taken particular notice of the country from his prison window and, when he came down into a broad road running along the valley, he turned at once to the south.
His plans had all been carefully thought out, while in prison. He knew perfectly well that, without money, it would be altogether impossible for him to traverse the many hundred miles that lay between him and Saxony. There would be a hot pursuit when, in the morning, he was found to have gone; but it would hardly be suspected that he had taken the road for Vienna, as this would be entirely out of his way.
Happily, he was not altogether penniless. He had always carried five or six gold pieces, sewn up in the lining of his jacket with the letters with which he had been furnished by Count Eulenfurst, as a resource in case of being taken prisoner. He wished now that he had brought more, but he thought that it might prove sufficient for his first needs.
He walked all night. His candle burnt out, in two hours after starting; but at eleven the moon rose, and its light enabled him to keep the road without difficulty. As morning dawned, he approached a good-sized village some forty miles from his starting point and, waiting for an hour until he saw people stirring, Fergus went to the posting house and shouted for the postmaster. The sight of a field officer, on foot at such an hour of the morning, greatly surprised the man when he came down.
"My horse has fallen and broken its neck," Fergus said, "and I have had to walk some miles on foot. I have important despatches to carry to Vienna. Bring round a horse, without a moment's delay."
The postmaster, without the smallest hesitation, ordered his men to saddle and bring out a horse.
"It will be sent back from the next stage," Fergus said, as he mounted and rode on at full speed.
He changed horses twice, not the slightest suspicion being entertained by any of the postmasters that he was not what he seemed; and, before noon, arrived at the last post house before reaching Vienna.
"A bottle of your best wine, landlord, and I want to speak a word with you in a private room. Bring two glasses."
The wine was poured out, and after he had drank a glass Fergus said:
"Landlord, I am the bearer of important despatches, and it is imperative that I should not attract attention as I enter the city. If I were seen and recognized there, questions might be asked, and curiosity excited as to the news of which I am the bearer.
"I see that you are a sensible man, and will readily understand the situation. To avoid attracting attention, it would be best for me to enter the city in a civilian dress. You are about my size, and I beg you to furnish me with a suit of your clothes, for which I will pay at once."
"I will do that willingly, sir," the landlord answered, feeling much honoured by being let into what he deemed an important affair. "My best suit is at your service. You can send it me out from the town."
"I would rather pay for it, landlord. I may be ordered in another direction, and may not have an opportunity of returning it. If you will say how much the suit cost you, I will hand you the money."
The landlord went out, and returned in a minute with the clothes.
"Another glass of wine, landlord," Fergus said, as he handed over the amount at which the landlord valued them–"another glass of wine; and then, while I am changing, get a light trap round to the door. I shall not want to take it into Vienna, but will alight and send it back again, half a mile this side of the gates. Mind–should any inquiries be made, it were best to say as little as possible."
In another five minutes, Fergus was on his way again. He had procured from the landlord a small trunk, in which he had packed the uniform, and directed him to keep it until he heard from him; but if in the course of a week he received no orders, he was to forward it to Major Steiner, at Spielberg.
When within half a mile of Vienna, Fergus got out, gave a present to the driver and told him to return, and then walked forward to the gate, which he entered without question. He thought it better not to put up in that quarter of the town, but walked a long distance through the city, purchased a travelling coat lined with sheepskin, and a small canvas trunk in which he put it; went some distance farther and hired a room at a quiet inn, and called for dinner, of which he felt much in need, for beyond eating a few mouthfuls of bread while a fresh horse was brought out for him, he had tasted nothing since the previous evening. After dining he went to his room and took his boots off and, feeling completely worn out from his long journey, after two months of confinement, threw himself on the bed and slept for three hours.
Then he went for an hour's stroll through the town. By this time it was getting dark, snowflakes were beginning to fall thickly, and he was very glad, after sitting for a time listening to the talk in the parlour of the inn, to turn in for the night.
In the morning the ground was covered with snow. He was glad to put on his thick coat, for the cold outside was bitter.
For some hours he walked about Vienna, and the contrast between that city and Berlin struck him greatly. The whole bearing and manner of the people was brighter, and gayer. The soldiers, of whom there were great numbers in the streets–Austrians, Croats, and Hungarians–had none of the formal stiffness of the Prussians, but laughed and joked as they went, and seemed as easy and light hearted as the civilians around them. They were, for the most part, inferior in size and physique to the Prussians; but there was a springiness in their walk, and an alertness and intelligence which were wanting in the more solid soldier of the north.
He spent the day in making himself acquainted with the town, the position of the gates, and other particulars which might be important to him; as he could not feel sure of the reception that he would meet with, when he presented his letter.
In the afternoon the city was particularly gay. Sledges made their appearance in the streets, and all seemed delighted that winter had set in, in earnest.
The next morning, after breakfast, Fergus went to the mansion of Count Platurn, whose position he had ascertained on the previous day. The name had been scored under, in his list, as one on whom he might confidently rely.
"I am the bearer of a letter to Count Platurn," he said, to the somewhat gorgeously-dressed functionary who opened the door. "I have a message to deliver to him, personally."
The doorkeeper closed the door behind him and spoke to a footman, who went away and returned, in a minute or two, and told Fergus to follow him to a spacious and comfortable library, where the count was sitting alone.
"You are the bearer of a letter to me, sir?" he said, in a pleasant tone of voice. "Whence do you bring it?"
"From Count Eulenfurst of Dresden," Fergus said, producing it.
The count gave an exclamation of pleasure.
"Has he completely recovered?" he asked. "Of course, we heard of the outrage of which he was a sufferer."
"He was going on well when I saw him last, count."
The count opened the letter and read it, with an air of growing surprise as he went on. When he had finished it, he rose from his seat and offered his hand to Fergus.
"You are the Scottish officer who saved the lives of the count, his wife, and daughter," he said warmly. "How you come to be here I don't know, but it is enough for me that you rendered my dear friend and his wife, who is a cousin of mine, this great service. You are not here, I hope, on any mission which, as an Austrian noble, I could feel it impossible to further."
"No indeed, count. Had it been so, I should assuredly not have presented this letter to you. In giving it to me, the countess said that possibly the fortune of war might be unfavourable, and that I might be taken prisoner. In that case, she said I might find a friend invaluable, and she gave me letters to eight gentlemen in various great towns, saying that she believed that any one of these would, for the sake of the count, do me any kindness in his power.
"Her prevision has turned out correct. My horse was shot under me at the battle of Lobositz, and I was made prisoner and sent to the fortress of Spielberg. Three days since I effected my escape, and deemed it more prudent to make my way here, where no one would suspect me of coming, instead of striving to journey up through Bohemia."
"You effected your escape from Spielberg!" the count repeated, in surprise. "That is indeed a notable feat, for it is one of our strongest prisons; but you shall tell me about that, presently.
"Now, about Count Eulenfurst. The affair created quite a sensation, partly from the rank and well-known position of the count, partly from the fact that the King of Prussia, himself, called upon the count to express his sincere regret at what had occurred, and the vigorous steps that he took to put a stop to all acts of pillage and marauding. It was said at the time that, had it not been for the opportune arrival of a young Scottish officer, an aide-de-camp to Marshal Keith, the lives of the count and his family would assuredly have been sacrificed; and that the king, in token of his approbation, had promoted the officer upon the spot.
"But I pray you, take off that warm coat, and make yourself at home."
He touched a bell. A servant entered immediately.
"If anyone calls, say that I am engaged on business, and can see no one this morning. Place two chairs by the fire, and bring in wine and glasses."
Two chairs were moved to the fire. Wine was placed close at hand on a small table, and the count fetched a box of cigars from his cabinet. Fergus had already adopted the all but universal custom, in the German army, of smoking.
"Now," the count said, when the cigars were lighted, "tell me all about this affair at Dresden."
Fergus related the facts, as modestly as he could.
"No wonder Eulenfurst speaks of you in the highest terms," said the count. "Truly it was nobly done. Six Pomeranian soldiers to a single sword! 'Tis wonderful."
"The chief credit should, as I have said, count, be given to the maid, but for whose aid matters might have gone quite otherwise."
"Doubtless great credit is due to her, Lieutenant Drummond; but you see, you had already defeated three, and I prefer to think that you would have got the better of the others, even if she had not come to your aid.
"The countess had, I hope, quite recovered at the time you came away, since it is she who writes the letter in his name."
"I think that she had quite recovered. For a few hours, the doctors were even more anxious as to her state than that of the count; but the news that he was doing well, and might recover, did wonders for her; and she was able herself to take part in nursing him, two days after he received the wound."
"I saw, by the account, that my little cousin received the king."
"She did, sir, and bore herself well. It was no doubt a great trial to her, so soon after the terrible scene she had passed through. In that she had showed great calmness and presence of mind, and was able to give assistance to her mother, as soon as she herself was released from her bonds."
"You were not present, yourself?"
"No, sir. My wound was, as I have said, but in the flesh; and was of so little consequence, that I did not think to have it bandaged until all other matters were arranged. But when I had made my report to the marshal, and begged that a surgeon should be sent instantly to aid the count, I fainted from loss of blood; and it was some days before I was able to ride out to pay my respects to the countess."
"And now, tell me about your escape from Spielberg."
This Fergus did.
"It was well managed, indeed," laughed the count. "You seem to be as ready with your wits as with your sword, and to have provided against every emergency. It was fortunate that you had hidden away those gold pieces, with your letters; for otherwise you could hardly have got those clothes from the postmaster. It was a bold stroke, indeed, to use her majesty's uniform and the imperial post to further your escape.
"Now we must think in what way I can best aid you. You will require a stout horse, a disguise, and a well-filled purse. Eulenfurst authorizes me to act as his banker, to advance any moneys that you may require. Therefore you need offer me no thanks.
"What disguise do you, yourself, fancy?"
"I should think that the dress of a trader, travelling on business, would be as good as any I could choose."
"Yes, I should think it would."
"I should give myself out as a Saxon merchant," Fergus went on. "In the first place my German, which I learned from a Hanoverian, is near enough to the Saxon to pass muster; and my hair and complexion are common enough, in Saxony."
"I will get an official paper from the city authorities, stating that you are one–shall we say Paul Muller, native of Saxony, and draper by trade?–now returning to Dresden. I shall have no difficulty in getting it through one of my own furnishers. I do not say that you could not make your way through without it; but should you be stopped and questioned, it would facilitate matters. I will see about it this afternoon. I have simply to say, to one of the tradesmen I employ, that I am sending an agent through Bohemia to Eulenfurst, and think that in the present disturbed state he had better travel as a trader; and ask him to fill up the official papers, and take them to the burgomaster's office to get them signed and stamped. He will do it as a matter of course, seeing that I am a sufficiently good customer of his.
"A horse I can, of course, supply you with. It must not be too showy, but it should be a strong and serviceable animal, with a fair turn of speed. The clothes you had perhaps better buy for yourself, together with such things as you can carry in your valises.
"I would gladly ask you to stay with me here, for a while; but having arrived in that dress, it might excite remark among the servants were you to appear in a different character. I regret that my wife and family are away, at one of my country seats, and will not be back for a week; and I suppose you will not care to linger so long here."
"I thank you, count, but I should prefer to leave as soon as possible. I do not think that there is really any fear of my being recognized. If they search at all along the Vienna road, it is not likely that they will do so as far as this; and certainly they could obtain no news of me, for the first forty miles, and would not be likely to push their inquiries as far, for a dismounted field officer could not but have attracted attention, at the first village through which he passed."
"It would be best for you not to change your clothes at the place where you are stopping. I can have everything ready for you by tomorrow morning, if you wish to leave at once."
"I should certainly prefer doing so."
"Very well, then. Do you go out by the west gate, at nine o'clock, and walk for some four miles. When you find some quiet spot, change your clothes, and walk on until within sight of the village of Gulnach, and there wait. I will send a confidential servant with the horse. He, on seeing you standing there, will ask who you are waiting for. You will give my name, and then he will hand over the horse and papers to you."
He got up and went to his table and opened a drawer.
"Here are a hundred rix dollars, Mr. Drummond, which I hand you as Count Eulenfurst's banker. It is a matter of pure business."
"I could do with much less than that, sir," Fergus said.
"No, 'tis better to be well supplied. Besides, there are your clothes to buy; and be sure and provide yourself with a good fur-lined travelling cloak. You will need it, I can assure you.
"Your best course will be to travel through Saint Poelten and Ips, cross the river at once, and go over the mountains by the road through Freystadt to Budweis. It is by far the most level road from here, though a good deal longer than the one through Horn. But there is snow in the air, and I think that we shall have a heavy downfall, and you may well find the defiles by the Horn road blocked by snow; whereas by Freystadt you are not likely to find any difficulty, and most of the road is perfectly flat."
Chapter 7: Flight
After leaving Count Platurn, with the most sincere thanks for his kindness, Fergus went to a clothier's, where he bought clothes suitable for a trader, with warm undergarments, and an ample cloak lined with warm, though cheap, fur, and carried these to his inn. The rest of the day was spent in strolling about, and in examining the public buildings and art galleries.
The next morning he paid his reckoning and, taking his small trunk in one hand and his fur cloak in the other, started; wearing the coat he had first purchased as he thought that, crossing the defiles into Saxony, he might very well need that as well as his cloak. As the western gate was the one nearest to his inn, it was not long before he issued out and, walking briskly, came in three-quarters of an hour to a wood.
As there was no one in sight along the road, he turned in here and changed his clothes. Then, leaving those he had taken off behind him, he continued on his way, and in less than half an hour approached a village, which he learned from a man he met was Gulnach. He waited by the roadside for a quarter of an hour, and then saw a man galloping towards him, leading a riderless horse. He drew rein as he came up.
"What are you waiting here for?" he asked.
"Platurn," Fergus replied.
"That is right, sir. This is your horse. Here is the letter the count bade me give you, and also this sword," and he unbuckled the one that he wore.
"He bade me wish you God speed."
"Pray tell him that I am sincerely obliged to him for his kindness," Fergus replied, as he buckled on the sword.
The man at once rode off.
The saddle was furnished with valises. These contained several articles he had not thought of buying, among them a warm fur cap with flaps for the ears, and a pair of fur-lined riding gloves. He transferred the remaining articles from the little trunk to the valises, and threw the former away; rolled up his cloak and strapped it behind the saddle; and then mounted. He was glad to find in the holsters a brace of double-barrelled pistols, a powder flask and a bag of bullets, and also a large flask full of spirits.
As he gathered the reins in his hand, he had difficulty in restraining a shout of joy; for with an excellent horse, good arms, warm clothes and a purse sufficiently well lined, he felt he was prepared for all contingencies.
As he moved on at a walk, he opened the count's letter. It contained only a few lines, wishing him a safe journey, and begging him to tell Count Eulenfurst that he regretted he could not do more for his messenger, to prove his goodwill and affection; and also the official document that he had promised to procure for him. Tearing up the count's letter, and putting the official document carefully in his pocket, he pressed his heel against his horse's flank, and started at a canter.
He stopped for the night at Ips, and on the following day rode to Linz. The snow had fallen almost incessantly, and he was glad, indeed, that he had brought the coat as well as the cloak with him.
The next night he halted at Freystadt. As this was a strongly fortified place, commanding the southern exit of the defile from the mountain, he was asked for his papers. The official merely glanced at them, and returned them. He was forced to stay here for several days, as he was assured that it would be all but certain death to endeavour to cross the pass, in such weather.
On the third day the snow ceased falling and, early next morning, a force of 500 men, comprising almost the whole of the garrison, started to beat down the snow, and cut a way through the deep drifts. For four days this work continued, the men being assisted by a regiment that was marched down from Budweis, and opened the defile from the northern end. The pass was an important one, as in winter it was the one chiefly used for communication between Bohemia and Vienna; and it was therefore highly important that it should be maintained in a practicable state.
Fergus was in no hurry to proceed. He knew that there was not the smallest possibility of operations being commenced until the snow disappeared, which might not be until the end of March. He therefore took matters very quietly, keeping entirely indoors as long as the snow continued to fall, and going out as little as possible, afterwards.
He was glad, indeed, when the news came that the pass was clear. As soon as the gates were unlocked he pressed on, in order to get ahead of a large convoy of carts, laden with warm clothing for the soldiers, that was also waiting for the pass to be opened. In spite of all that had been done, it was rough work passing through the defile, and he did not arrive at Krumnau until nearly sunset. Budweis lay but a few miles farther ahead, but he had made up his mind not to stop there, as it was a large garrisoned town, and the small places suited him better.
Passing through the town, next day, he continued his course along the road near the river Moldau. He made but short journeys, for the snow had not yet hardened, and it was very heavy riding. He therefore took four days in getting to Prague.
He thought it probable that here a watch might be kept for him for, had he travelled straight from Spielberg, this was the point for which, in all probability, he would have made; unless he had gone through Silesia, and then travelled up through Breslau. He therefore made a circuit of the picturesque old city, entered it by a western gate, and then rode straight for the bridge. He had slept at a place but four miles distant, and had started at daybreak, so that it was still early in the day when he proceeded on his way.
He stopped at a small town, ten miles farther north. Two or three squadrons of cavalry were quartered there. The landlord at the inn where he put up at once asked for his papers. These he took to the town offices, where they were stamped as being in due order. Half an hour later, as Fergus was at his meal, two officers entered.
"Your papers appear to be right, sir," one of them said courteously; "but in times like these, it is our duty to examine closely into these matters. You come from Vienna?"
"Yes, sir."
"Which way did you travel?"
"By way of Linz and Budweis," he said. "The snow began on the day before I left the capital, and I was advised to take that route, as the road would be more level, and less likely to be blocked with snow than that through Horn. You will see that my paper was stamped at Linz, and also at Freystadt.
"I was detained at the latter place seven days. For the first three it snowed, and for the next four days the garrison was occupied, with the aid of troops from Budweis, in opening the defile."
The officer nodded.
"I happen to know that your story is correct, sir, and that it accounts fully for your movements since leaving Vienna. Which way do you intend to cross the passes into Saxony?"
"I must be guided by what I hear of their state. I had hoped to have got back before the snow began to fall in earnest, but I should think that the road by the river will now be the best."
"I should think so," the officer said, "but even that will be bad enough. However, I will not detain you farther."
They moved away to another table and, calling for a bottle of wine, sat down.
"No, we are mistaken. I don't think the fellow would have the bare-faced impudence to come through Prague," one said.
The other laughed.
"I should think that he would have impudence for anything, major. And in truth, I rather hope that they won't lay hands upon him–a fellow who devised and carried out such a scheme as he did deserves his liberty. Of course, his overpowering the warder was nothing; but that he should have had the impudence to go down into the major's quarters, appropriate his clothes, leave his own uniform behind him; and then, taking advantage of the arrival of another regiment, march calmly out through them all, pass the sentries–who took him for one of the newly-arrived officers in charge of the waggons–was really splendid!
"How it was that they did not overtake him the next morning, I cannot make out. He had no sword with him, and no horse; and the spectacle of a field officer on foot, without even a sword, should have attracted the attention of the very first person who met him. He had not been gone two hours when troops started in pursuit; for when the major, whose door he had locked, had it burst open and found that his uniform was gone, he suspected something was wrong, and had all the sergeants in charge of prisoners mustered.
"One was missing, the man who had charge of this young Scotchman. As he could not be found, the fellow's cell was broken open, and there was the warder, bound and gagged. The bird had flown, and parties of horse were sent off by all the roads leading to Bohemia and Silesia, but no signs of the man have, as far as we have heard, yet been discovered.
"The only thing that I can imagine is that, when he heard the cavalry in pursuit, he left the road and hid up somewhere; and that afterwards he tried to make his way by unfrequented paths, and was starved in the snow. In that case his body is not likely to be found until the spring."
"I cannot help thinking that a fellow who could plan and carry out that escape would hardly be likely to lose his life in a snowdrift. You see, it was not a sudden idea. On no other evening would he have found the gate open after sunset, nor would he have been certain to have found the major absent from his quarters. He must have been waiting patiently for his opportunity and, as soon as he heard that another battalion was coming into the garrison, he must have resolved to act. More than that, he must have calculated that instead of arriving at four o'clock, as they were timed to do, they would be detained and not get in until after dark.
"They are clear-headed fellows, these Scotchmen; whether they are in our army or Frederick's. What makes the affair more wonderful is that this was quite a young fellow, and probably understood no German; but I think that he would have acted more wisely, had he waited until the spring."
"I don't know," the other said. "When once the troops are all in movement north, he certainly could not have escaped in a military uniform without being questioned; and it scarcely seems possible that he could have procured any other. He must be in more of a hurry to fight again than I am."
"There can hardly be much serious fighting," the other said. "With us, Russia, and France, and with the 50,000 Swedes who have been bought by France, we shall have 500,000 men under arms; while we know that 200,000 is the utmost Frederick can muster, and these will have to be scattered in every direction round his frontier."
"I am sorry that France has joined in," the other said. "It is unnatural enough that we and Russia should combine to crush Prussia, but when it comes to our old enemies the French helping us against a German power, I say frankly I don't like it. Besides, though we may get Silesia back again, that will be a small advantage in comparison to the disadvantage of France getting a firm foothold on this side of the Rhine. Even if her share of the partition doesn't extend beyond the river, this will be her frontier nearly down to the sea; and she will have the power of pouring her troops into Germany, whenever she chooses."
Fergus had now finished his meal, and without caring to listen longer he betook himself to bed. To avoid all appearance of haste, he did not start so early the next morning, but mounted at ten and rode to the junction of the Eger with the Elbe. It was too late to cross the river that night, and he therefore put up at a village on the bank, and crossed in a ferry boat on the following morning to Leitmeritz, a town of considerable size.